Moments In Time
by northernexposure
Summary: It's December 23rd, and Nick hasn't finished his shopping… Total fluff.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a tiny, fluffy Christmas present for Tewbacca. I haven't written these characters in what feels like a decade, so I hope I'm not way off beam. One more chapter to come. Happy Christmas, everyone! x

**-X-**

Nick Cutter stared ruefully at the throngs of shoppers crowding past the entrance to Bond Street Tube station. _I must be mad,_ he told himself silently. _This is going to be a nightmare_.

Squaring his shoulders, he stepped into the slush left by the last snowfall and headed toward Oxford Circus. Despite the masses of people around him, it was strangely quiet. He guessed that everyone was just too intent on their own tasks to take notice of what was going on around them.

Someone jostled against him, and as Nick moved sideways, he bumped into someone else in turn. Sighing, he inwardly cursed himself for leaving his Christmas shopping so late yet again. It was December 23rd, and there was no way he should still be trying to find presents for his two nieces, especially since tomorrow he would have to spend the day trying to drive to his sister's in snowy, rural Wiltshire. Although, in his defence, Nick hadn't actually intended to leave it so late – the last three weeks had been manic for his team. There had been four separate prehistoric incursions for them to deal with, and what with the incessant snow and bitter conditions, even with their Home Office backup they had been spread thin. They were all exhausted, and had definitely earned a break over Christmas. They were due a week of blissful rest… always assuming the past didn't once again attempt to enter the present.

Nick wasn't much interested in the festive season, as a rule. In fact, if he hadn't faithfully promised last year that this year he would spend it with his sister's family, he would have happily by-passed the whole event as he had done for the last five years. But Eve, his younger sibling by ten years, had it in her head that her girls were missing out by not knowing their uncle better, and had only let him alone last year if he swore that, by hook or by crook, he'd be with them this year. So here he was, trying to work out what little girls of five and three might like to open on Christmas morning. Some kind of doll, he assumed. He'd just have to swallow the sense of absurdity that threatened to engulf him as he imagined himself standing in front of a wall of plastic toys, trying to choose something that would probably be broken or forgotten within five minutes anyway. There were good reasons why he and Helen had not had children, chief among them being that he had no idea what he was supposed to do with one.

He kicked his way through the slush to the top of Regent Street, and then turned morosely toward Hamley's. Nick's mood, which hadn't been particularly rosy in the first place, was threatening to take a seriously anti-Christmas nosedive. It wasn't that he didn't love his sister and the girls. Even her husband was tolerable company. It was just that he'd rather just be on his own.

_Well, not necessarily alone,_ a voice at the back of his mind muttered mutinously. _Maybe if I was with-_

He clamped down on that train of thought immediately. _Definitely best not to go there._ Nevertheless, her face floated into his mind, large brown eyes blinking at him from below a softly chestnut fringe.

Nick sighed, and reached up to rub a hand across his eyes. He didn't really know when this thing about Claudia Brown had started. He certainly wasn't fool enough to have invited it. But now, there it was, a little niggle every time he looked at her, a tiny frisson every time she smiled at him. And it was stupid, ridiculous, and he was old enough to know better, but for some reason, he just couldn't persuade himself out of it. He liked looking at her. He liked talking to her. He didn't get to do either of those things enough. And as for anything else-

_Well. Best not to go there._

Unfortunately for him, the past three weeks had meant that they'd ended up spending a lot of time together, and that hadn't helped his current predicament in the slightest. He'd seen her every day, spent long hours sitting beside her in cars, running through undergrowth and bickering about how best to deal with the problems brought by each anomaly. The more he'd seen her, the more Nick had been captivated by the unfussy way in which she dealt with whatever trouble was placed in front of her, despite often being terrified and, he suspected, feeling out of her depth. Not to mention the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, and sparked when she argued…

Nick slowed to a stop in front of a jewellers' window. The intricate display inside was lit up to resemble a miniature winter wonderland. _What would she wear? _He asked himself, idly. _What would I choose for her, if I had to? _It was juvenile, he knew that, and completely out of character for him, whose idea of a Christmas present for Helen had been a bottle of Glenlivet 18 and breakfast in bed. And yet he was somewhat mesmerised by shop's display, and by his collected memories of Claudia from moments he'd sewn together in his head over the past few weeks. Nick saw a necklace, slowly rotating on a glass Christmas tree, a delicate pendant on a thin gold chain, tiny moulded flowers and birds entwining around a hand-spun hoop of gold. _She might wear that,_ he thought, imagining it around her slim neck.

Nick shook himself. Was he really standing here, fantasy-buying a present for a woman who at this moment was probably being pampered by some suited Home Office official? It was so ridiculous that his own silent embarrassment was almost too much to bear. He heard the sudden ghost of Helen's voice, laughing at him. Nick rubbed his hand over his face again. He'd just have to hope that some time away would put an end to this completely inappropriate – and embarrassingly one-sided – attraction.

"You stupid _arse_," he muttered to himself harshly, preparing to turn away. "Get a bloody hold of yourself."

"Nick!"

Her voice stopped him dead. "Claudia Brown!"

She was standing beside him, smiling happily, hair half-covered by a red wool hat, the other half streaming around her shoulders. It had started snowing again, and flakes had caught on her eyelashes and nose. Her cheeks were rosy with cold. Nick was totally floored.

Claudia laughed. "Why _do _you call me that?" she asked. "Why always 'Claudia Brown'? Why not just 'Claudia', like everyone else?"

Nick blinked. "It's – it's your name," he said, lamely. There wasn't really any other explanation.

Her smile widened, eyes sparkling, brighter even than in his memory. "Well, I suppose that's true." She looked at the window he'd been staring at. "Oh! Are you buying something for someone special?"

Still slightly stunned, Nick followed her gaze. "Not really," he said.

"Those are beautiful," Claudia continued, tapping her finger on the glass to indicate the necklaces he'd been contemplating a few moments previously. "I'm sure she'd love one."

He frowned, lost. "Who?"

Claudia looked up at him. "Whoever it is you're buying for."

"Oh… I'm not. I mean – I wasn't. I don't have…" Nick trailed off, lost for a way out of the mental cul de sac he'd driven himself into.

"Sorry," Claudia looked abashed. "It's none of my business. I always get carried away at Christmas." She indicated at the street around them with another effervescent smile. "I just get caught up in the magic of it all. I mean, it's all so beautiful, isn't it? Christmas? Makes me feel like a child again."

Nick glanced around them. The lights of Regent Street were dancing brightly in the cold, clear air, the shop windows glinting with colour. Around them people were smiling and laughing, all laden with bags and parcels. A new blanket of snow was slowly layering itself over the dank and dirty mush, turning everything clean and white. He found himself smiling, too.

"You're right, Claudia Brown," he told her.

"Well," she said, glancing down at her hands. "I should let you get on. I hope you find what you're looking for. Have a lovely Christmas, and I'll see you in the New Year."

"Right," he said, awkwardly. "You too…"

Claudia stared up at him for another second, and Nick had the strange impression that she was hesitating over something. Then she shrugged slightly, and stepped back, offering a slightly self-conscious wave as she set off past him toward Oxford Circus.

Nick turned to watch her go, feeling suddenly bereft. How was he going to last one day without that smile, let alone a week? He clenched and unclenched his hands, caught in indecision. And then, before her red hat had completely disappeared into the crowd, Nick found himself dashing after her, feet slipping and sliding in the wet.

"Claudia," he called. She stopped and turned, her look of surprise bringing him to a halt. _This is a bad idea._ "Um… I just thought – I was just going to go and get a hot drink. Thought you might like to join me."

She blinked. The look of surprise didn't fade. "Oh!" she said. And then she smiled. "Yes – yes, I'd love to."

[TBC]


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hope this works! Have a lovely festive break, everyone!

**-X-**

Claudia followed Nick through the snow, a little dazed at this unexpected turn of events. When she'd seen him, standing there, illuminated by the light from the jeweller's window, she'd almost not greeted him at all. He'd looked miles away, and not particularly happy. But, as always seemed to be the case when it came to Nick Cutter, she let considerations other than good sense override her judgement.

Take, for example, this day. It was her first in months away from the insanity that her life at the Home Office had become. Yet she'd spent half of it wishing she didn't have to take a break at all, and the other half daydreaming. In the end she had forced herself out into the snow despite the fact that she'd already done her shopping, just to shake herself out of that daydream. It hadn't worked. Claudia had been walking along, idly wondering things about which she had no right thinking, when Nick had manifested himself before her. His chin was rough with stubble, his hair looked as if it hadn't seen a brush in a week, and he was wearing a leather jacket that she hadn't seen before. Something in her stomach had back-flipped so fast she'd felt giddy, and before Claudia had really given her mouth permission, she'd been saying his name and grinning like an idiot.

And then he'd said _her _name, her full name, his soft Scottish burr wrapping like warmth around it. And when he did that, as he often did – well, that's when Claudia Brown was really in trouble. But she hadn't expected him to ask her to join him for a drink. She should have said no. Not that she wasn't glad he'd asked. She was very, _very_ glad. Too glad, really, at the prospect of spending time with a married man. Specifically, a married man she worked with. Which is exactly why she should have said no.

"It's not far," Nick told her now, blue eyes glancing at her as he led her swiftly back up Bond Street. "I just know it'll be quieter than anywhere else around here tonight."

"I can't imagine anywhere around here being quiet," she said, as another laden shopper jostled past them. "It's bedlam!"

Nick smiled. "Trust me."

And she did. She always did, even when she shouldn't.

They turned into St Christopher's Place, and immediately entered a well of calm. Even the Christmas lights here were less frenetic, casting golden pools along the windows of the restaurants and spinning tame halos over the fresh snow. Still Nick walked on, past the full cafés and restaurants, turning down yet another side street, which was narrow enough that it really should be called an alley. Halfway down, a neon sign was lit up in green, white and red, spelling out the name 'Giovanni's'. They reached the sign, which was hanging above a small wooden door, which was in turn beside a large glass window.

"Haven't been here for a while," Nick said, as he opened the door and ushered her inside. "But the welcome was always-"

"Nick! My good and dear friend! Where have you been?" The speaker was a short, portly man with a strong Italian accent. He hurried toward them, weaving between the busy but not full tables. "We have missed you!"

Claudia watched as Nick shook the proprietor by the hand. "Giovanni," he said, with a smile. "It's been a while, I know."

"Ah well, it is no matter," Giovanni said, cheerfully, his attention turning to Claudia. "You are here now, and with beautiful lady! Come, sit down, sit down…"

They found themselves seated by the window, and ordered coffee. Giovanni shouted for the drinks and then bustled around them for a few more minutes, catching up with Nick, casting little glances in Claudia's direction. She watched the two men – they obviously went back quite a few years – and found herself fascinated by this unexpected little insight into the dour Professor's life.

"And now you are here again," Giovanni said, beaming, as he finished a train of thought. "And you have found new love. This makes me very happy. I was so sad when Mrs Helen passed. Sad for her, sad for you," he told Nick rapidly, before turning to Claudia. "And so worried that he was alone, for so long. But even I can see, you make Nick happy, Miss-?"

"Uh – Claudia," Claudia told him, her cheeks colouring. "But I-"

"Claudia's not – we're not a couple, Giovanni," Nick said, hurriedly. "We work together. We just wanted… some coffee…"

Giovanni slapped his hand against his forehead. "My goodness! I am sorry! I will leave you now. Please, forgive me."

Claudia smiled up at him, quite genuinely. "It's fine, really…"

Giovanni bustled away. Nick cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he apologised, obviously embarrassed. "Giovanni can be a little… overwhelming. But he means well."

Claudia smiled. "There's nothing to apologise for. This is a favourite place of yours?"

Nick glanced out of the window, into the darkened alley beyond. "It was. Helen and I used to come here a lot. Since she disappeared… I guess there hasn't been much reason to come, alone."

She glanced down at the table before meeting his eye. "Sorry," she said.

Nick shrugged and smiled, but Claudia could see a trace of the hurt in his eyes. It wasn't just pain, either – there was something else. Confusion? Her heart pulsed a little in response. How could she have done it? How could Helen have just walked out, and let him think she was dead, for all those years? Who would do that to someone who loved them?

Claudia realised she was staring into his eyes, and wrenched her gaze away. "So – what brings you out into the madness of central London two days before Christmas?" she asked, to cover the flush she could feel rising in her cheeks again.

"Got to find something for my nieces," Nick said, with a slight grimace. "Can't turn up at my sister's empty-handed."

Claudia was surprised. "I didn't know you had a sister," she said.

"Eve," nodded Nick, as the steaming coffee arrived. "She's convinced that I need looking after at Christmas-time. I haven't been able to avoid it this year – going up to hers for a couple of days."

Claudia smiled. "It's nice to spend Christmas with family. Gives you time to reconnect. I'm back with my parents this year. I'm quite looking forward to it."

Nick raised an eyebrow as he stirred sugar into his drink. "Back with your parents? Why, where would you usually be?"

She stared down into her coffee. "Oh, with my fiancé. His parents are older, you see. He didn't like leaving them on their own over the festive period."

Nick's spoon stilled. "I, uh – I didn't realise you are engaged," he said, quietly.

"Oh, I'm not. I was, until earlier this year. But… it didn't work out."

The spoon circled again, before NIck put it down and raised the cup to his lips. "I'm sorry," he said.

It was Claudia's turn to shrug. "We grew apart. It happens."

Nick nodded. "Yes. It does."

She found that they were staring at each other again. Nick's eyes seemed very blue in the dim light of the restaurant. There was something warm about them, welcoming. It wasn't the only time she'd noticed that, of course. It was one of the first things that had struck her about Nick Cutter. That, and the taste of whisky that had lingered on his lips, and then hers, following the unconventional way in which she had introduced herself.

A loud click and a sudden flash of light from a nearby table jolted Claudia out of her reverie. She and Nick both turned toward the noise to see Giovanni brandishing a Polaroid camera.

"Ahh," said Nick, "I'd forgotten about that."

"About what?"

"It's a Giovanni tradition. He always takes a picture of his guests. Then you can either keep it, or he'll pin it to the wall. See?" Nick pointed to the wall behind the bar at the end of the room. It was papered with hundreds, if not thousands, of overlapping pictures. Claudia was pleased to hear Nick laugh slightly. "I bet there are some terrible ones of me over the years."

She grinned. "Let me guess… there'll be one of you with long hair."

Nick groaned. "Yes, probably. That was only a short phase, thank God."

"I don't know," she said, taking another sip of her drink. "I bet you looked good with long hair. It'd soften the intimidating rugged look…" Claudia broke off. "Not that being rugged is bad," she said, backpedalling furiously. "It's good. I mean, women like it. Some women…" she trailed off, cursing inwardly.

Nick looked surprised, his gaze fixed on his coffee. "Intimidating? I've never been called that before."

_I didn't mean that _you're _intimidating,_ Claudia thought, but couldn't say. _I meant that you only have to look at me and I turn into jelly. And that's intimidating for quite a few reasons… _

Claudia realised that if she stayed much longer, she'd be in danger of showing just a little too much of her heart. And she couldn't imagine the embarrassment of having to work with him if he had any idea just how deeply he affected her. She finished her coffee and replaced it in the saucer.

"I should go," she said, avoiding his eyes. "There's – there's so much I need to do."

Nick nodded, but her heart warmed a little to see the reluctance on his face. "Me, too. Or the girls will be unwrapping old dinosaur bones for Christmas, and I can't see that going down well, can you?"

Claudia laughed as she stood up, reaching for her wallet to pay for her coffee. Nick reached out, his fingers brushing the back of her hand as he shook his head.

"Let me," he said, dropping a note on the table. "I'm the one that dragged you here."

She shook her head. "No dragging required. It was nice to chat, Nick."

They'd almost made it to the door when she heard a shout behind them. She turned to see Giovanni rushing toward them, Polaroid in hand.

"Wait! I must have your picture."

Nick held up a hand, "Oh no – come on, Giovanni, you have more than enough of me."

"And what about Claudia?" Giovanni asked reproachfully, as he tried to manhandle the camera into position.

"Oh, I don't think-" Claudia began, before the Italian cut her off again.

"And look! Above you! Perfect, no?"

Claudia's heart somehow managed to somersault and sink into her boots at the same time. She shut her eyes for a second before looking up, already knowing what she would see.

They were standing by the door, ready to leave. And over the door, directly above her head, was a bunch of mistletoe. She looked at Nick, who was staring at her intently.

"Okay, Giovanni," he said, softly. "You can take a picture, but only if you let us off the kiss. Deal?"

"No deal, no deal at all," Giovanni said stoutly. "It is Christmas. It is mistletoe. It is the rules."

Claudia shrugged slightly, her heart thumping out a rhythm too fast for her to follow. "Well," she said, eyes still fixed on Nick's. "I suppose it is Christmas."

Nick nodded, but didn't smile. "I suppose it is, Claudia Brown."

He leaned in, quickly, before she was prepared for it, and caught her lips with his own. The kiss was teasingly brief, his lips warm and soft. Claudia felt his hands at her waist, holding her firmly, just for a second, before letting her go. She opened her eyes to find Nick still standing close, watching her face. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to throw her arms around his neck and press herself against him.

"No, no, no!" Giovanni said, in tones of outrage. "Too quick! I did not take picture. Kiss her again!"

"No, Giovanni," said Nick, turning his head. The Polaroid flashed. They both blinked. "I think that's good enough."

The Italian tutted as he waved the rapidly developing picture to and fro. A moment later he held it up for them to see. "We can make better than this."

Claudia looked at it. It wasn't a great shot, it was true. She looked startled, staring at the lens. He was looking back at the camera, one hand on her arm.

"One for the bin, I think," Nick said, with a faint smile.

"Tsk. You must be joking," said Giovanni. "It goes on wall with the rest."

They left the restaurant side-by-side, quiet. Claudia's mind was full of the feel of Nick's lips, pressed so recently against hers. She wondered what was going through his head. Probably nothing to do with that little encounter. More than likely, he'd already moved on. She sighed. As enjoyable as it had been, experiencing the reality of what she'd been daydreaming about for weeks wasn't going to help her get over this little crush. Not when there could have been so much more to that kiss…

"Penny for them?" Nick asked, as they headed once more onto Bond Street.

Claudia blushed. "Nothing worth a penny, I'm afraid." She stopped outside the Tube station. "This is where we say goodnight, I think."

Nick's eyes were sparkling with a smile that softened his face. "Goodnight then, Claudia Brown. Have a wonderful Christmas."

Claudia smiled up at him, losing herself in his gaze. "You too, Nick Cutter," she murmured. And then, before she could stop herself, she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his cheek.

**-X-**

Nick remained staring at the space she'd left on the street long after Claudia had disappeared into the Underground. The whole encounter had taken up less than an hour, and the kiss that kept rotating in his head less than ten seconds. And yet he could smell her perfume, could feel the touch of her lips, on his mouth, on his cheek.

Shaking his head, Nick pushing himself into motion. He got as far as the corner of Regent Street for the second time before he stopped. And then, cursing himself, he doubled back and retraced his steps.

Giovanni saw him as soon as Nick opened the door.

"Ah ha," said the Italian. "I thought you would be back." He held out the photograph. "You want to keep this, yes?"

Nick grimaced. "I'm that transparent, huh?"

"No," said Giovanni. "But she is that beautiful."

Nick looked down at the image of himself and Claudia Brown, a moment in time forever captured on paper. "Yeah. She is."

"You should not let her go easily, this one, I think."

Nick smiled wryly. "Somehow, I don't think that's up to me, Giovanni."

The Italian smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas, my friend."

Nick stepped once more into the snow, slipping the picture into his wallet.

[END]


End file.
